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The drag screeched and snatched him back! His bobber was nowhere to be seen. This is when the bay water smelled stronger than ever, and the sun felt like dragons breathe on his face. He stood, and his legs trembled as if he suddenly had a colony of angry ants in each one. Something down there was making his drag sound like that. Jack leaned against the side of the boat to steady his legs then turned the reel. He used a spinning reel many times, maybe a couple of hundred. He was really good for someone who is only eight, but now he forgot how to use it. So, he turned the handle, but in the wrong direction, and it flung to the bottom of the boat.

This is when his arms stretched over the side, toward the water, as if they were string cheese.

It wanted his minnow. It wanted his hook. It wanted his line. It wanted his bobber. It wanted his pole. It wanted their boat. And– it wanted him.

The only thing Jack could do from not letting it was to yell,

“Monster! Monster!”

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